


Ice

by FloreatCastellum



Series: Slice of Life One-Shots [17]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Ice Play, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 06:26:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19420321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloreatCastellum/pseuds/FloreatCastellum
Summary: Harry helps Ginny cope with the heat.





	Ice

Poor Ginny just could not cope with the heat. Harry had assumed that she would burn easily, that much was a given, but he had been amused (though naturally sympathetic) to her desperation for shade, for a breeze, for water - anything. Where he felt uncomfortably warm she felt close to fainting, where he eased himself into the Mediterranean sea exclaiming that it was freezing she allowed herself to flop into it, insisting it was like a warm bath and he was a coward. Where he had bronzed in the sun she had turned to strawberries and cream - paleness of her skin standing out even more against the patches she had accidentally let burn a fierce, sensitive pink. They had active mornings and long evenings because the middle of the day was seemingly impossible for her to function in. 

It was the tail end of one of these afternoons, and he walked quietly in to ask her if she felt ready to leave the villa yet. She had the fan on full blast, and was lying on her front, her bright red hair stark against the pillow, her slim, pale back dappled with freckles, clearly entirely undressed with just corner of the white sheets pulled lazily over her hips. He wanted to crawl over the bed to her, kiss up her back and onto her shoulder, feel those hips grinding into him… 

But there was also something else he wanted to do which would be much funnier, so instead he turned, and slipped silently out again, this time not to the little patio but to the kitchen. He returned less than a minute later, leaned over her and heard her gentle breaths, and placed and ice cube in the hollow of her lower back. 

He laughed as she flailed and gave a gasping, shrieking squeal. ‘Harry!’ 

‘I’m sorry!’ he said quickly through his laughs as she twisted round, grabbed him, and wrestled him down onto the bed. ‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist-’

She gave a growl of frustration as, with surprising strength, she flipped them over and straddled him. ‘You-’

‘No, no, no!’

But she had seized the slippery lump of ice and was shoving it aggressively down his shorts, fighting hard as his arms tried to push her away, but he was laughing so much that, despite her small stature, he couldn’t fight her off. Finally his laughter turned into playful groans and complaints that it was cold, and he rolled them back over yet again, both of them panting slightly. 

‘Serves you right,’ she said, smirking. 

‘Thought you’d enjoy it,’ he tried. ‘You looked hot.’ 

‘I thought I always look hot?’ 

‘Yes, but temperature wise.’ 

‘Hmm.’ 

He leaned his head down slightly and kissed her; she deepened it, running her hands up into his hair, and then down, tugging at his t-shirt which he eagerly pulled off before returning immediately to holding her close, delighting in the way her chest pressed against his, how her nails scratched slightly at his back sending shudders down his spine-

‘Mmm, no-’ said Ginny suddenly, pushing him away. 

He looked at her, baffled, wondering what on earth he had done wrong and trying not to be too hurt about it. 

‘I’m sorry, it’s just I am, I’m way too hot.’

He laughed again as he rolled of her, realising that she was indeed rather red in the cheeks, watching her shift to try and get a better angle under the fan to feel its breeze. ‘Are you all right?’ 

‘You’re boiling,’ Ginny told him. ‘It was like snogging a hot water bottle.’ She gave a great, huffing sigh. ‘Wish I hadn’t shoved that ice down your pants now.’ 

He grinned, and reached into his back pocket for his wand. Ginny watched him with sleepy looking eyes as a sliver of ice, not a cube as before but more like a smooth, round, oval disc, appeared at the tip of his wand. He held it to her forehead and she moaned loudly. 

Better when you’re expecting it?’ he asked her, propped up on one elbow beside her. 

‘So much better,’ she said. ‘That feels so good.’ 

It had to happen, after she sighed like that. What else did she expect? She must have done it deliberately. 

He took the ice and touched it to her lips. Her eyes were heavy as she opened them and slowly looked at him, her breathing becoming quite different. But he was not looking at her eyes; he focused entirely on her lower lip as he ran the ice slowly across it, watching how the slight trail of water it left made them shine. 

He leaned down and kissed her again, feeling those cold lips against his, but as he did so, quite without planning it or really appreciating what he was doing, he dragged the ice, achingly slowly, over her jaw and onto her neck. He felt her moan into his mouth, and his stomach gave an excited lurch. 

He moved then, kissing after the cool trail the magical ice had left behind, onto her jaw and neck, nipping slightly as she moaned, tracing the ice along her collar bone. 

Her gasping and shuddering was driving him wild. The scent of the beach still lingered on her from this morning, and she writhed under his teasing; he pulled the ice from one freckle to another, tracing a cold line of goosebumps down her hot body. 

‘Harry…’ she breathed, as he finally brought the ice to her breast. ‘Yes…’ One of her hands came up to grip at his hair as he kissed and sucked - he loved her tugging at it, he loved it when she pulled his head back so she could get at his neck, but today she was pushing his head down slightly - hesitantly, like it was an impulse she was fighting back. 

He chuckled softly as he realised, and used the moment he turned away to place his glasses on the bedside table as the chance to snap one end of the oval of ice into his mouth. She was too busy moaning that he had removed it from her to notice. 

With the half that was not in his mouth, he let that slide smoothly down her toned stomach, grinning as she whimpered and jerked slightly over the ticklish spots, gazing hungrily over her dappled skin, letting her hands fumble over the button of his shorts. 

She freed him from them, but before she could do anything more than graze him with her soft hand he shifted down further, kneeling in front of her. She propped herself up now too, on her elbows, her expression one of excited anticipation, breathing heavily with her lips parted as she stared at him. 

She raised one leg slowly onto his shoulder, and he slid the ice down, from her ankle gradually down to her inner thigh. As he reached their favourite spot there he traced a circle, and she sank back down, moaning. 

His own mouth was suitably cold now, he thought. He lowered himself, one arm looped around the soft, smooth leg that was still on his shoulder, the other grasping her hip bone, and began. 

Her gasp was so dramatic, so loud, her hips bucked so much, that he paused, looking up with dark eyes to seek permission to continue. 

‘Please,’ she gasped, nodding and whimpering. ‘Harry-’

So he continued, his tongue tracing shapes, his hands gripping, closing his eyes to better enjoy the sounds she made and the way her leg trembled against his neck, but occasionally opening them to watch her, drinking her in, his heart bursting with an intense mixture of love and satisfaction that he could reduce her to this. 

Her gasping got more and more breathless, into heavy panting, babbling his name, arching her back into nothing and then sitting up slightly to grip his messy hair once more as she cried aloud before falling back onto the pillows. 

But not for long. Soon she was pulling him up with such urgency and ferocity that he laughed slightly, but she pressed her lips to his and hooked her leg over his waist as she pushed him onto his back, straddling him once again. 

The breeze from the fan above them caught her hair as she rode him - it was like his teenage fantasies he thought stupidly as he moaned beneath her, like she wasn’t real. 

But she was real, these sensations were very much real, and she was deliciously warm and so achingly beautiful as she bounced above him, his hands roaming over her hourglass curves, overwhelmed yet again, as he always was, at his extraordinary luck.

She was still crying out his name, louder and louder until she leaned back and called out that she loved him and he felt her tighten around him once again, and it undid him too

She collapsed onto his chest, as was usual, both of them breathing heavily as he tilted his head to kiss her warm, pink forehead. 

‘Oh no,’ she moaned, rolling off him as he laughed. ‘No cuddling this time. You’re fucking boiling.’


End file.
